


Branching Paths

by weakinteraction



Category: Bernice Summerfield (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Gen, Interactive Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-21 10:57:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17042441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakinteraction/pseuds/weakinteraction
Summary: You're Benny.It may be harder than you think not to let Braxiatel down on your latest mission.





	Branching Paths

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheBigCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBigCat/gifts).



"Bernice, promise me: you won't let the Faultline fall into the wrong hands." 

Brax had seemed unusually intense about this particular job, so you had given him the most earnest promise you could that you would do your utmost to retrieve the Faultline and return it to the Collection safely. But you have to admit that it's a little difficult to feel as though this is the sort of high stakes assignment that Brax implied when you're on your way to your destination on a luxury spaceliner with all the many and varied possibilities for entertainment that entails.

Take a dip in the onboard swimming pool

Go to the bar to chat to the other passengers

Read the overwhelmingly long briefing document Brax gave you

For some reason, you've avoided dropping the Doctor's name these last few years, but somehow you feel like it's OK now. Almost as though nothing that's happening at the moment is really going to matter.

"Who is 'the Doctor'?" Shiny says, but one of his lieutenants pulls him aside and whispers urgently in his ear. He coughs and turns back to you and Brax. "We will not prevent you from boarding the shuttle," he says. "But be warned, we will brook no interference in our mission to retrieve the Faultline."

Board the shuttle

The other passengers are entertaining enough conversationalists, but you're not sure you learn anything very important. Certainly, none of the rest of them seem interested in a once-in-a-millennium opportunity to uncover the archaeological treasures of Praeton VI, they're just going there as tourists, or on business or to visit family.

Before long, the android bartender calls time, instructing everyone to return to their cabins in preparation for arrival.

Finish your drink quickly and head back

You're rather shocked when you disembark that Brax is there to meet you.

"How did you get here so quickly?"

"I, ah, took a later flight," he says.

"And got here sooner?"

"It was also a _faster_ flight," Brax says. "Now really, we don't have much time." He checks a small pocketwatch, a gesture you would be sure was entirely superfluous if he didn't seem so nervous. "The alignment is in six hours, thirty four minutes and ... twenty-two seconds."

"And the flight to the vault island takes three hours," you say. "We'll be fine."

"Will we?" Brax says.

You follow his gaze and see a bunch of well-armed shiny-uniformed military thugs also heading for the sub-orbital shuttle from the spaceport.

"Who are they?" you ask.

"We are the elite guard of Vaxos II," the shiniest-uniformed member of the group says. "Our people have extremely refined auditory senses," he adds at your surprise that he could hear you at all.

"I suppose you think you're here for the Faultline," Brax says.

"One notorious rogue archaeologist and ... whatever you are ... aren't going to stop us," Shiny sneers.

"You don't know what you're dealing with," Brax says quietly.

"Er, yeah," you chip in, "if you mess with us, you'll be making trouble with ..."

You suddenly can't decide exactly what to threaten him with.

"... the Doctor"

"... the Grel"

"... the Killorans"

The swimming pool is just the right temperature, and the only other person using it at the moment is an octopoid called (in her own chromatophoric language) magentacyanmagenta, who, after introducing herself through a clunky translator unit, sticks to darting around near the bottom.

By the time the announcement comes over the tannoy that the ship is about to land, you feel remarkably relaxed.

If only Brax would pay for this sort of thing on the Collection

"I think I'll look after this," you say.

The Vaxosians open fire, but every shot misses, just as the Faultline promised you.

"You incompetent fools!" Shiny shouts.

"It's not our fault, Captain Azan, sir," one of the underlings whines. "There must be something wrong with the targeting mechanisms--"

"Bernice--" Brax begins, then stops. "When did you figure it out?"

"You took a later flight," you say. "How _much_ later?"

"I assure you, it's all in a good cause. The only cause left, when I'm from. The safety of reality itself."

"But you wouldn't have come here like this if _you_ \-- _my_ you -- the Brax who lives and works on the Collection, had agreed to hand it over. You must have tried asking him first."

"I won't deny it, of course I won't. But he has some rather ... quaint notions about some things being too terrible to be used. He intends to render it ... inaccessible." Brax gestures around himself. "Even more inaccessible than it was when I put it in here."

"This thing can change the entire nature of reality itself," you say. You've only seen a glimmer of its power, you realise, and the Faultline starts whispering to you again, promising the entire universe on a plate if you want it. "I think he's right. I think you were right, when you hid it away in the past."

"You have no idea--"

"How desperate you are?" you say. "Oh no, I can see that very well indeed. That's what troubles me. Before I came here, you -- Brax -- made me promise not to let it fall into the wrong hands. And now I think I know who he meant."

"Bernice, I must insist--"

"You aren't going to fight me for it," you say. "Not your style. And whatever's gone on to make things turn out the way they have, I know you're still _you_."

You walk out of the chamber.

**END**

You start trying to read it properly, but quickly realise that Brax has definitely forgotten that normal people take in information at a rate considerably lower than he does. Switching to skimming, you pick up the basics, though you knew the legends already. Praeton VI has an extremely complicated collection of moons, and the ancient inhabitants (who, in typical fashion, may or may not be connected to the modern-day humanoid residents) set up a vault that could only be accessed when the tidal pulls of all the moons aligned just _so_. Since that time, however, the moons have drifted slightly out of their original orbits, and now the correct alignment occurs only once every 1083 years.

It just so happens that this year is one of those years, and that's why Brax is sending you now.

By repute, the Lunar Vault contains all manner of ancient weaponry, the like of which has not been seen since ... oh, the last time that reality nearly ended but it really was just coincidence that you happened to be nearby at the time. But the most ancient and reality-altering item in there is supposed to be the Faultline, which somehow exists in every reality at once and allows its wielder to select between them.

You're just starting to feel as though there's something fishy about this whole thing when the tannoy announces that the liner will be arriving at Praeton VI shortly.

Get ready to disembark

The ride to the vault island is uncomfortable, on several levels: the Vaxosian elite guard being on board as well makes for a frosty atmosphere, Brax is more jittery than you've ever seen him, and the seats are just a little bit too small for ... well, anyone, really.

Eventually, though, you arrive, and stand next to Brax. You and the Vaxosians are staring up at the thirteen moons arranged in the sky like ornaments on a bracelet, but Brax is staring at the ground. It's as though he can see the other seventeen moons all the way through the planet, feel their subtle gravitational influences.

Finally, you hear the grinding of stone, as the ancient mechanisms begin to move, a giant combination lock that responds to gravity itself. An entranceway reveals itself.

"Vaxos shall be reborn!" Shiny says, leading his men straight into the obvious pitfall trap.

"That's the thing about us rogue archaeologists," you say happily as you and Brax pass around the narrow ledge on the side. "We've been around the block a few times."

As you go deeper into the Vault's superstructure, you begin to hear the sound of the Vaxosians managing to extricate themselves -- in particular, you hear Shiny's repeatedly shouted insistence that no one else is allowed to stand on his shoulders.

"We must hurry," Brax says.

Which would be easier said than done if the path didn't split three different ways at this point.

You cast your torch into the darkness of each of the passageways, but can only see a few metres in front of you in each one.

"Any suggestions?" you ask Braxiatel. "Any eldritch senses give you an indication."

"I think you should trust your instincts," Braxiatel says. "That's what served you so well-- Sorry, I mean has served you so well. In the past. But, of course, this is the present."

"Well," you say grudgingly. "I suppose this is what you pay me for."

Lead Brax down the leftmost path

Take the central path

Try the rightmost path

"Well, all right, admittedly I'm thinking more of one particular Killoran, but he is the father of my child. Not that-- Look, it's complicated, all right? And frankly none of your business. Except it should be, because you are scared of Killorans, aren't you? They were all over this sector of the galaxy back in their more warlike days. I think?"

"Oh yes," Brax says. "Masterful," he adds, _sotto voce_ and extremely sarcastically.

"We have no desire to antagonise the Killorans," Shiny says. "The Killoran workforce on Vaxos II has built many fine monuments to our triumphs."

"So, you're not going to do anything unpleasant?" you say.

Shiny stomps off grumpily, and Brax says, "Well, not yet, anyway."

Board the shuttle

"Here you go," you say, handing it over to Brax.

"Thank you," he says. "You really have ... no idea how valuable this is."

"It will be safe in the Collection, won't it?"

"It will be safe in ... _a_ Collection," Brax says carefully. "An Archive, perhaps I should say. One it should never have left in the first place."

You look at Brax with narrowed eyes. "You're not him, are you?"

"If it walks like a Braxiatel, talks like a Braxiatel--"

"And schemes like a Braxiatel," you say, "maybe it is a Braxiatel. But you're not _my_ Braxiatel, are you?"

"Now, how did you work that out?" he asks. "I wonder, I wonder ..."

You think you can feel the Faultline's objections to being taken away by him through some sort of sympathetic bond, but it's as though reality is shifting back to one in which you can't really understand it any more.

"I think you should give that back," you say.

"No, that won't be happening, I'm afraid. I am sorry for the deception," Brax says, and it _almost_ sounds as though he means it. "I tried to reason with myself -- with 'your' Braxiatel -- but he was rather difficult to persuade."

"But why the subterfuge? Why did you need me at all?"

"The Faultline was ... inchoate," Brax says. "Among my many gifts, the ability to anchor it in one particular timeline is not numbered."

"So you used me." Brax looks away, and it's all the confirmation you need.

"Bernice?"

"Yes?" you say warily.

"Take care around the Fifth Axis."

You give him your best unimpressed look -- not difficult, as you are indeed severely unimpressed. "Great advice, thanks."

"The forces behind them ... are also the ones I'm fighting now, in my relative present." He looks at you sadly. "Good luck, Bernice."

**END**

"I don't want any violence," you say, handing the crystal to Shiny.

Shiny grins triumphantly, and as he takes possession of the crystal it instantly changes into a different form again, a barely contained globe of molten rock, almost as though it's a portal to a universe of lava.

Reality shifts around you, again and again, until you find yourself still on Praeton VI, one of the few non-Vaxosians allowed to witness the Ceremony of Affirmation, in which Emperor Azan, wearing a quite outstandingly shiny dress uniform, uses the Faultline to confirm the reality in which Vaxos II conquered most of the known galaxy millennia ago. When this is all over, you'll be sent back to the mining colony on asteroid KS-159, but for some reason Azan insisted you were here.

No. Something is wrong here. You fight to remember, the way things were before ... But there is no time before the Vaxosian occupation, is there? Not within your lifetime, anyway.

Somehow, though, something compels you to run from the viewing platform, past the massed ranks of the ceremonial guard, and wrest the Faultline out of his hands. By rights you should have been shot dead a dozen times over, but somehow every blast misses.

"That was a _really_ bad idea, wasn't it?" you think to the crystal.

"Yes," the Faultline -- and it is a crystal again now -- says simply, as the old reality reasserts itself around you.

Give the Faultline to Braxiatel

Keep the Faultline and take it back to the Collection yourself

"Yes, that's right, the Grel!" you say. "My friend Sophia will come and tell you lots of facts, and lovely though she is I'm pretty sure only a very small proportion of them will be interesting. Or maybe she'll send some of her friends and they'll make you give them facts."

Shiny looks ashen-faced. Clearly the Vaxosians _have_ encountered the Grel. "Very well," he says. "We will leave you alone. For now."

Board the shuttle

As you go deeper into the passageway, you get the distinct sense that it is turning back on itself repeatedly as it also descends deeper towards the heart of the Vault.

"I'm starting to get the feeling that we're in some sort of maze," you say.

"I think it would be more accurate to say that it's a labyrinth," Brax puts in, unhelpfully.

"Oh, well, as long as we're getting the terminology correct, let's not worry whether we're lost or not."

"I'm not lost," Brax says. "Why, are you?"

You're pretty sure you could find your own way, but you let Brax take the lead. At last, you emerge from the gloom of the dark tunnels into a chamber lit by a shaft of light coming from high, high above. 

Step forward

As you enter the very heart of the Vault, you finally find yourself face to face with the Faultline. It seems to be flickering in and out of existence slightly too fast to see, cycling through different forms: a bifurcated glowing red crystal; a statuette with its arms upraised; a handbag that's perfectly nice -- not one you'd ever pick for yourself, if you were in the market for a handbag, but if someone gave it to you as a present you would probably use it on occasion; a single eye, human-looking except for its monstrous size, floating in sinister fashion above its plinth; the sort of computer bank you'd expect to see on a 22nd Century spaceship, all tape reels and blinking lamps; and on, and on ...

" _Take it_ ," Brax hisses.

You step forward, but just as you do, Shiny and his men reappear. This time, they're wielding guns, and they don't look like they'll be distracted by another reference to you friends.

But it's too late, you're already at the plinth and grabbing at the Faultline. As you touch it, it seems to settle into a single form -- the red crystal you first perceived it as.

"Very good, Bernice," Brax says. "Now bring it to me ..."

Shiny turns his gun on Brax. "Give it to us, or your friend dies."

The crystal in your hands feels alive with power. It's almost as though it's whispering to you in a language you can't understand.

And then, all of a sudden, you _do_ understand. "That's right," the Faultline says pleasantly inside your mind. It's a neutral-to-pleasant female voice, like a helpful computer would have. "You've shifted yourself into a timeline where you can understand at least my most rudimentary functions."

"I feel as though I should feel insulted," you think back.

"The problem you are faced with is rather pressing, and the probability sheaths separating us from outcomes where you won't have to make some variant on the choice are too thick for me to penetrate."

"Oh," you think. "Pity."

"If the Vaxosians do decide to shoot your friend, I can shift us into universes where they're all terrible shots."

"Given what happened when we came in, I have a feeling that might be this universe anyway."

"But you still have to decide."

Brax looks at you oddly, as though he can tell that you're communing with the Faultline. "Bernice, I really must insist ..."

Give the Faultline to the Vaxosians

Give the Faultline to Braxiatel

Keep the Faultline and take it back to the Collection yourself

You carry on forwards, but quickly realise that the path stops abruptly at a ledge over a steep rockface. You take out the complimentary sweet you pocketed on the spaceliner and drop it.

You've nearly counted to eight seconds when you hear the faintest crunch of it hitting the floor far below.

"Adjusting for local gravity being slightly less than standard, that's a quarter of a kilometre drop," Brax says helpfully.

"Well, at least we know there is a bottom," you say. You didn't bring a full set of abseiling gear or anything but some of what you've got in your backpack might suffice. "The only way is down," you say.

"Is it?" Brax says, looking rather nervous. "Are you absolutely sure you would have come this way if I wasn't with you?"

"You're the one who wanted me to trust my instincts," you say, but as you prepare you start to wonder if perhaps Brax is right to question them now.

Go back and try the path on the right

Go back and try the path on the left

Brave the cimb

Not far down the passageway, you come up against an immense stone door, covered in ancient hieroglyphs.

Brax laughs heartily, as though the writing on the door is a hilarious in-joke. Which perhaps it is.

"You can understand this, I suppose?" you say wearily.

"Naturally," Brax says. "Do you recognise it?"

You point at a few of the symbols. "That one there isn't a hundred million light years away from a Minyan fertility goddess." You keep looking. "And that might be related to Uxariean symbology ... Perhaps? Does that make any sense?"

"Oh very well, I'm convinced you would have got there eventually," Brax says. He presses a few of the hieroglyphs in rapid succession, which glow momentarily before the door doesn't swing out of the way so much as rotate itself to reveal a round chamber beyond.

"Well, come on, then," Brax says, and you follow him.

As soon as you're both inside, the stone door swings back into place. A moment later, you feel your stomach drop away from you.

"It's a giant elevator!" you say gleefully as you realise what's going on. "Whoever designed this place didn't want to make life too difficult for themselves, did they?"

"I always find it preferable when things are convenient," Brax says. "Don't you?"

The stone elevator lands with a rather large thud, and the door swings in the opposite direction. The chamber beyond is lit by a shaft of light from high above.

Walk out of the elevator

Brax does not seem overly confident climbing down, but gives it his best shot. As you progress further, you are harried by some sort of avian life-forms adapted for life in the dark caves: pale and seemingly blind, hunting by sound alone. Even Brax manages to shut up once you realise that the slightest noise attracts them.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity of climbing downwards, trying desperately to avoid the tiniest scrabbling of rock falling free, you reach the Vault. Unfortunately, your progress down the rockface has been so slow that the Vaxosians have beaten you to it, and the Faultline has gone.

When you finally climb back out and reach the outside world, you find that you are on but one of many worlds of the Vaxosian Empire, which has stood for generations.

"We were too late," Brax says.

"What do we do now?" you ask.

"There's nothing _we_ can do," Brax says bitterly. "I'll have to retro-annul this particular timeline and try again. I do hope your next iteration chooses more wisely." He shakes his head in disappointment. "Such a pity that _I_ wasn't more willing to co-operate, but believe me, I can be very stubborn when I want to be." He looks at you with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. "I _am_ sorry, for what it's worth. It was good to see you again."

"What _are_ you talking about?" you demand.

But Braxiatel has vanished, leaving you alone in a hostile universe and with the uncanny sense that you're about to stop existing altogether.

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> Fractal section spacers generated using [XaoS](https://fractalfoundation.org/resources/fractal-software/).


End file.
